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sorrow is easier than guilt.

Anne Sexton

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Anne Sexton
Age: 45 †
Born: 1928
Born: November 9
Died: 1974
Died: October 4
Poet
Writer
Newton
Massachusetts
Anne Gray Harvey
Guilt
Sorrow
Easier

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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What's the point of fighting the dollars when all you need is a warm bed? When the dog barks you let him in. All we need is someone to let us in. And one other thing: to consider the lilies in the field.
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this is no dream just my oily life where the people are alibis and the street is unfindable for an entire lifetime.
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Though rain curses the window let the poem be made.
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Rats live on no evil star
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God owns heaven but He craves the earth.
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O fallen angel, the companion within me, whisper something holy before you pinch me into the grave.
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unless I can shake myself free of my dog, my flag, of my desk, my mind, I find life a bit of a drag. Not always, mind you. Usually I'm like my frying pan useful, graceful, sturdy and with no caper, no plan.
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And thus Snow White became the prince's bride. The wicked queen was invited to the wedding feast and when she arrived there were red-hot iron shoes, in the manner of red-hot roller skates, clamped upon her feet.
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Why are all these dolls falling out of the sky? Was there a father? Or have the planets cut holes in their nets and let our childhood out, or are we the dolls themselves, born but never fed?
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I, in my brand new body, which was not a woman's yet, told the stars my questions and thought God could really see the heat and the painted light, elbows, knees, dreams, goodnight.
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The tongue, the Chinese say, is like a sharp knife: it kills without drawing blood.
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I like you your eyes are full of language. [Letter to Anne Clarke, July 3, 1964.]
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My death from the wrists, two name tags, blood worn like a corsage to bloom one on the left and one on the right.
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Thumbs grow into my throat. I wear slaps like a spot of rouge.
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Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.
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Not that it was beautiful, but that, in the end, there was a certain sense of order there something worth learning in that narrow diary of my mind
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I was the girl of the chain letter, the girl full of talk of coffins and keyholes, the one of the telephone bills, the wrinkled photo and the lost connections.
Anne Sexton
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The grass as bristly and stout as chives and me wondering when the ground will break and me wondering how anything fragile survives
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I have a black look I do not like. It is a mask I try on. I migrate toward it and its frog sits on my lips and defecates.
Anne Sexton
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Not that it was beautiful, but that I found some order there.
Anne Sexton